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\begin{center}\rule{0.5\linewidth}{0.5pt}\end{center}
Ioan half lay, half slouched against the headboard with May draped bonelessly up along eir front. She'd gotten up to make them both coffee to drink in bed, then proceeded to doze off again, using eir chest as a pillow and the rest of em as a mattress.
\AddToHookNext{shipout/after}{\includepdf[pages={1},offset=3in 0]{assets/may-bar}}
Ey, meanwhile, had made it through most of eir coffee, resting the cup between the skunk's shoulder blades between sips. It was technically Christmas, though neither of them cared much for the holiday. Michelle Hadje had been raised vaguely Jewish and Ioan the particular blend of spiritual humanism that pervaded Eastern Europe at the time, but both had been well-steeped in the broader secular Christian culture of the West. That meant it was the day for the \emph{tocană} and \emph{mămăligă} that had become tradition for them. Ey hadn't learned to cook much prior to uploading—just a few simple dishes for a poor student—and it wasn't until ey had wound up on the System in eir current sim that ey'd gone back to teach emself all the things ey'd loved growing up.
``To be built to love is to be built to dissolve. It is to be built to unbecome. It is to have the sole purpose in life of falling apart all in the name of someone else.
It promised to be a lazy sort of day otherwise, which felt necessary. May's spike of anxiety when ey'd gone out for eir meeting with True Name a few days prior had quickly tapered off, but it had not simply gone away. The days that followed had included a lot of asking em if ey was okay and taking breaks to sit and look out the picture windows, lost in thought.
``We all have a bit of that in us, do we not? You find yourself at a bar or maybe in some class somewhere, you look over, and there they are, right? You look over and you maybe catch their eye and you come undone at the seams. You fall into those big, beautiful eyes—for when you are built to love, every eye that catches yours is the most beautiful thing of all time—and you begin to flake away at the edges.
Still, last night had been delightful, with the skunk far more relaxed while they cooked—or tried to cook—shitty fast food for each other. After dinner, they moved to the couch with Ioan resting eir head in May's lap so that she could tease her fingers through eir thick hair while they hummed silly little songs to each other.
``And to be built to love is to be all edges. They catch on your clothes, they brush against walls and furniture. You are all edges\pagebreak~so that love can fill the cracks and soften those jagged corners.
Today promised to be equally comfortable.
``You are spiked and barbed. It is as if you are built that way on purpose, so that the slightest breeze can blow you about and catch you up on some future love.''
Ey frowned when ey lifted eir mug, only to find it empty. Equally comfortable but for that, ey supposed.
The skunk had been sitting on a barstool, hunched over a pint and slurring half to the glass, half to some absent bartender. She slid to her feet, wobbled for a moment, then righted herself.
``I'm going to drink your coffee, May.''
``Actually, you know what? I have heard it said so many times that to hate—truly hate, burn up inside with that passion—is to actually be in love with the object of your hatred, but I think there is a little bit of hatred in love, too. You fall so completely for someone that you just cannot help but resent them. It is a mirror of that hatred for yourself, for all your jagged edges and prickly burrs, a reflection of the resentment that you feel towards yourself for having been built to love. And look at me!'' She gestured down at herself, a grand sweep of the paw outsized in her intoxication. ``I fuckin' loathe myself! Can you imagine how deeply I must love others, then?''
``If you do, I will pin you down and pluck your eyebrows bald,'' she mumbled, slowly lifting her head and reaching out toward her mug on the nightstand.
After a moment's wild laughter, she stumbled back until her tail crumpled against the edge of the stool. ``Ow! Fuck. Yeah, I deserved that one, I think.''
``That's a new one. Sounds painful.''
She moved to finish her pint, frowned on finding it empty, and shuffled away from the bar.
``Add it to the list,'' she said after she was able to get at least a few sips in.
``So yeah, you hate yourself, and it actually feels kind of good, does it not? Hatred can fill in those cracks as easily as love. Sure, it may not leave so pretty a pattern as the\ldots whatsit\ldots the patina that stains a tea cup with crackled glaze, but maybe the edges of you do not catch on so many things anymore. Maybe those prickles are dulled and you bounce off everyone around you. You can ping-pong through life, then, loving everyone and loathing yourself.''
``One day, they're going to find my body, clearly smothered to death, my eyebrows fully plucked, sand in my shoes, cracker crumbs in my bed, all of my pens un-capped, all of my book pages dog-eared, with skunk fur in all the food,'' ey said, laughing. ``I'm pretty sure they'll know it was you.''
The skunk stood up straight again, brushed her shirt out, and brought her tail around to rub at where she'd bumped it against the stool.
She lifted her chin to park it on eir shoulder. ``Mm, well, it is a risk I am willing to take.''
``Good Lord, May,'' Ioan said, laughing.
Ey tilted eir head to give the top of her own a kiss. An awkward affair, but worth it. ``You stay up too late again?''
She grinned widely, all that feigned drunkenness suddenly gone from her expression. ``How was it, my dear?''
She shrugged.
Ey slouched back against the front row seat ey'd claimed, tapping the end of eir pen against eir lower lip. ``Really, really good,'' ey said. ``Was the stumble intentional?''
``Well, you're a pretty cozy blanket, if a little too warm, so I guess I'll allow it.''
``The movement itself was,'' she said. ``Though hitting my tail was not.''
Lifting her snout, she licked at eir shoulder, getting a laugh out of em. ``Whereas you, my dear, are not a very good pillow. Just chock full of bones.''
``So no `I deserved that one'?''
``I need those to live.''
She sat down on the edge of the stage, kicking her feet idly. ``It was not in there, no, but I think I will keep it.''
``Lame,'' she drawled. After a moment, she added thoughtfully, ``I am glad that you have skin, though. It would be quite disgusting without.''
Ey grinned and closed eir notebook around eir pen, setting it aside to stand. ``Yeah, it's good in there,'' ey said, leaning forward to give the bridge of her snout a kiss. She squinted her eyes shut and then scrubbed a paw over her muzzle. ``I mean, the whole thing's good. Only note I really had is that you say `hate' four times in a pretty short span right after you stood up. `That to hate', then `truly hate', then `object of your hatred', and then `little bit of hatred'.''
``Eugh. As am I.'' Ey leaned over to grab her coffee cup and steal a sip, threats be damned. ``I'm still surprised you didn't wind up with another furry, though. Figured that would be more your style.''
``Should I make them all different?''
``I wind up with people that I like, whether they have fur or not.'' She shrugged. ``Which is not to say that I have not wound up with other furries.''
``I'd keep the first two because it works as an echo, so maybe just change the fourth? `Loathing'?''
``I'm not complaining. You're soft.''
``Excellent, O great wordsmith.''
``To be fair, that is what I like about you having skin. Skin is soft as well. Were you a furry, though, what species would you be?''
Ey laughed and tweaked her ear before hoisting emself up onto the edge of the stage next to her. Predictably, she scooted closer so that she could lean against eir side. ``Who would've thought, hmm? You getting me into theatre and me getting you into writing.''
Ey pet along her back, thinking. ``I don't know. I've only really had extensive interactions with skunks, foxes, and weasels. Maybe a squirrel?''
``This is still theatre! Just earlier on in the process,'' she said, indignant. ``But yes, it is proof that the Bălans can shove us around instead of only the other way around.''
She rolled off eir front and sat up eagerly. ``A squirrel? Really? Would you be one of those fancy red ones with the ear tufts and outrageous tails or one of the gray ones that were all over where I grew up?''
Ey gave her a playful shove with eir shoulder, at which she let out an outsized yelp followed by a whimper. ``So mean!''
A quick query of the perisystem archive gave em a good idea of what each might look like. ``The red ones sound really ostentatious. I don't know if I could pull that off.''
``Yeah, that's me. Meanest person you know.''
She retrieved her coffee mug from em and settled in beside em instead. ``Yes, but the \emph{tail,}'' she whined. ``Come on, my dear. You would simply \emph{have} to be a red squirrel. You dress all fancy, even!''
She rolled her eyes.
``Are they bigger than skunk tails?''
Ey let a long silence play then, looking out into the cool darkness of the theater while May summoned up her notebook and scribbled down eir tip from earlier.
She looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. ``Solid competition.''
``I can't picture anything having a bigger tail than you, May. Definitely outrageous.''
``I thought you liked my tail.''
``I do!''
``Excellent, I shall allow you to live another day.'' She laughed and dotted her nose against eir cheek. ``I had considered becoming a panther for some time, but I am too attached to my tail.''
``Or you it is to you.''
She laughed.
``You know, I've always wondered,'' ey said, getting an arm around her. ``Why did the most political stanza of the clade stay skunks? Wouldn't it be more effective to be humans? It's not like the majority of folks on the Systems are furries.''
``Only three of the ten are skunks anymore, and you have met all three. Besides, I think End Waking is the only one of the three of us who has not spent time in human form. Some of me in other relationships were—or perhaps are—humans. I spent six months with you in that form, even, remember?''
Ey nodded. ``It was pretty weird.''
``For both of us, yes. I like being what I am. Short, soft, furry, chubby,'' she said, poking at her belly. ``It is just that these are all things that are disarming to a great many people. Even skunks, despite their reputation for smelling bad, are often seen as bumbling, stupid creatures.''
``I wouldn't call you stupid, May. Bumbling, though\ldots{}''
She rolled her eyes. ``Thank you, I think? But yes, even bumbling is a calculated gesture to be inoffensive.''
``End Waking said similar.'' Ey dug through eir exocortices until ey came up with the memory of the conversation, ``He said it was a matter of intent.''
``It is, yes. I am sure that some of the wider clade who remain skunks do so without a second thought, but that is not how True Name worked, and so it is not how we work.''
``And she did that for the same reasons? To be inoffensive?''
She nodded. ``In a way. At first, she could not be anything but, as that is how she was forked, but she kept it because of the way the Council worked. She was a skunk, Debarre was a weasel, Ezekiel spent half the time looking like a shambling pile of dirty rags and the other half like an unhoused man, and user11824 looked like the least remarkable person possible, as though your eyes simply slid right off of him. The ethos of the Council was to be just ordinary people who were weird before uploading and remained weird after.''
``Jonas wasn't that weird when I met him.''
She made a sour face. ``But everything that he did was intentional. Every aspect of his appearance and personality.''
Ey nodded.
``But I think True Name kept it after the Council disbanded for much the same reasons. She is a furry because there are plenty of furries on the System. She remains in her early thirties because that is what one expects out of those on the System. She is not unattractive among furries, maintaining that soft figure and well kept appearance without heading towards sex-symbol because that is what many on the System wind up doing. She is professional, I am cute, End Waking is the sad and introspective one, and so on.''
``Right, that makes sense.'' Ey hesitated, composing eir next words carefully. ``You talk about her quite a bit. I know that--''
``You asked, Ioan,'' she interrupted, frowning.
``I know, May, I just mean in general. I know you're consciously working on how you feel about her and I keep bringing her up besides. Just an observation.''
The moment of tenseness lingered, then passed as she wilted against em, sighing. ``I know. I did not mean to get short with you. You are right, and I am not sure how I feel about that fact, that she is so often on my mind. My feelings remain complex.''
``Oh, I definitely get that.''
``You seem to enjoy her company more.''
Ey shrugged. ``I guess. It started out as a way to keep things smooth between our clades during the convergence, but now it's just a thing to do outside the house.''
``Coffee dates are good,'' she said, nodding.
``I don't know if I'd call them dates. No romance, there.''
The skunk laughed and shook her head. ``Just an expression.''
``Oh, right.'' Ey shrugged. ``She's just like\ldots a coworker one is friends with. There are contexts that I enjoy her company in, but it's not like I'm inviting her over for the holidays.''
``Which is good,'' she said, grinning. ``I am sure that I will get to the point where she and I can coexist in the same space without either of us pulling each other's fur out, but sharing Christmas dinner with her would be far too much.''
Ey nodded and tightened eir arm around her, kissing between her ears. ``Same, I think. Thanks for reminding me, though. I should probably get up and get that started.''
They both slid out of the bed to complete their morning tasks: Ioan to make another pot of coffee and prepare breakfast while May went through her grooming routine, eating, then a shower for em while she worked on her monologue.
The dinner itself wasn't exactly onerous. A stew of beef—ey'd been raised on a version with lamb, which May hadn't liked—tomatoes, and mushrooms in a garlicky, paprika-filled gravy served with polenta. Still, it benefited from a longer cooking time, so ey began that after eir shower and set it to \mbox{simmering}.
After that, they set some music to playing—the overlap of what they both enjoyed wasn't large, given the more than a century's age difference, but piano jazz seemed to work for both of them—and set to work on whatever it was that was occupying their minds.
Or tried to, at least.
Their conversation this morning as well as eir meeting with True Name a few days prior left Ioan in mind of skunks and the Ode clade, and even though those both featured quite heavily in the stage adaptation of \emph{On the Perils of Memory}, nothing ey tried seemed quite in the right vein.
Ey flipped to a blank sheet of paper and began a letter, instead.
\begin{quote}
True Name,
I hope all is well.
After our conversation a few days ago, as well as another that I had with May this morning, I got to thinking about a pattern I've noticed, and wanted to ask you about it. I hope it's not too impertinent of me. If it's too sensitive a topic, I understand.
I've noticed that you and May have a tendency to talk about each other quite a bit. I know that there are a lot of factors that go into this such as my relationships with each of you, your shared history, and the fact that I have a habit of asking each of you about the other in turn.
All the same, I was wondering if you had any thoughts on the matter. I don't want to sound meddlesome (indeed, I don't think I'd even be capable of meddling with either of you), I just want to better understand each of you in turn, given the dynamics between us.
I know it's not a huge deal for either of our clades, but all the same, Merry Christmas.
Best,
Ioan
\end{quote}
Ey read through the letter top to bottom three times, then, with a brush of the hand and a bit of intent, sent it on its way.
Doing eir best to forget about it until the other skunk responded, ey puttered around the house, checking on the stew, trying out a new ink in one of eir pens, and rehearsing some lines in a cone of silence.
A bit more than two hours after ey'd sent the message, a reply spooled itself out of eir desk and into eir field of view.
\begin{center}
\textbf{IOAN BĂLAN INDIVIDUAL-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL}
\end{center}
\begin{quote}
Mx. Bălan,
Thank you for your letter. Had we discussed this in person or over sensorium messages, I think that my responses would be quite different, but the intentionality that is required when engaging with writing forced me to think this through more clearly.
You are correct in assuming that it is you being our shared connection rather than any direct link between the two of us that leads to each of us discussing the other with you frequently. I do not think that this is worth discounting, however, as many know of each other only through one mutual acquaintance and yet do not talk constantly of each other to that one one person between them. It is still notable that we discuss one another as much as we do.
I have spent the last hour in discussion with myself while writing this, and would like this reply kept in confidence.
Years ago, when the Artemisians first arrived, May Then My Name mentioned a letter that I had sent her regarding you. I am not normally in the habit of sharing the tools of my trade, such as they are, and sharing this with you in particular is uncomfortable. However you of all people—a friend and someone deeply entangled with the clade—deserve to have the chance to read it, and it may do well to explain where we have found ourselves. Here is that letter in full:
\begin{quote}
May Then My Name Die With Me,
I hope that you are doing well. I understand that there remains some concern about the outcome of your previous relationship, and I would like you to know that I am not so far diverged from our common ancestor that I do not share in some of those feelings. I remember how often I would come crying into the Crown, leaning on this shoulder or that as I tried to deal with yet another break-up. I know that I have not always been the kindest or most empathetic down-tree instance, for which I truly am sorry. You are, in many ways, a better version of me, and the completeness that you bring to our stanza ensures that, even if I am not a fully realized person as you have suggested in the past, we—whether that is you and I, our stanza, or the Odists as a whole—still do add up to something that is greater than the sum of its parts. You may not believe me, and for that I do not blame you, but I really do love you in my own way, May Then My Name.
I do not know if you have been keeping up with many other stanzas after Qoheleth quit, but it appears that Dear, Also, The Tree That Was Felled has welcomed a new member to its relationship structure, one Codrin Bălan. I am sure that you recognize the clade name from \emph{On The Perils of Memory}. Codrin's down-tree instance, Ioan Bălan, was the amanuensis that Dear had chosen during that spate of trouble, and the series of events that followed led to a process of individuation. It is always exciting to see that happen, is it not?
The reason that I bring this up is that Ioan has picked up as eir next project an investigative piece surrounding the launch project. Given your role as sys-side launch director, I thought that I would put you two in touch. Eir project would benefit greatly from your position as well as your history, both with the project and with our time on the System. I have had the chance to interact with both Ioan and Codrin in the past, and they are some of the most delightful, insightful people that I have met. Please look them up when you get a chance.
All my best,
The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream of the Ode clade
systime 197+3
\end{quote}
That night, when she brought up this message, she mentioned that she believed me when I said that I love her in my own way.
I understand the root of her feelings towards me and, as I also mentioned on that night, I do not begrudge her that. I will ever be what I am, and what that is does not mesh well with her view of the world, even as it is integral to my existence.
Just as she said that she still believes me, it is also true that I still love her. Codrin reported that Why Ask Questions said, ``I have yet to meet a single person who has not fallen at least a little in love with May.'' There is perhaps a little bit of that involved in my own inescapably me way, but beyond that I love her as the version of me that I did not become.
Were you to ask me at the time, or even just a year ago, I do not think that I would have admitted such aloud, but even as I suspect that she is working on her thoughts about me with Ms.~Genet, I have been working with Ms.~Genet on my ability to be truly earnest with those I respect, which includes you.
I do not hold regrets for the path that has led us to this point. I have accomplished much that I set out to do, and, while the cost has been great when it comes to my interpersonal relationships (and, as you mentioned, my stress levels), it all very much still feels worth it.
Consciously or not, I make it a point to ask you how she is doing and to engage with her at one degree of remove because this is still a way to maintain that level of connection with someone I could have been after so long a time of disconnect.
Writing this has been both stressful and cathartic, so I appreciate having the chance to do so. While communications with my counterparts on Castor and Pollux have been somewhat scant of late, both of them have mentioned that they are striving to find situations in which they can be vulnerable and earnest. As I am sure you understand, this is still quite difficult for us.
Let us meet up on Secession Day for our next coffee date. Is 11:00 amenable? It can be a small celebration of our own.
I wish you and her both a delightful holiday. If you are comfortable bringing up the topic of me with her today and would like to get a laugh out of her, please say simply, ``Jingle Bells stage blocking.''
Sincerely,
The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream of the Ode clade
systime 225+359
\end{quote}
\begin{center}
\textbf{END IOAN BĂLAN INDIVIDUAL-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL}
\end{center}
Ey read the letter through a few more times, trying to digest all that it contained, trying to square this with what May had said of True Name steering her subtly into eir life, trying once again not to read too deep and guess that True Name\#Castor simply hadn't told her about Codrin learning the Name.
Finally, acknowledging that ey wouldn't be able to digest it all in one go, ey dashed off a quick reply thanking True Name for the letter and confirming the time of the next meeting. Then, ey committed the letter to a new exo ey tagged ``True Name--May 225'' and destroyed the physical copy.
``May?'' ey said, dropping eir cone of silence.
``Do you really feel that way?''
``Mm?''
``I was confirming a date with True Name and she said I should ask you about something called `Jingle Bells stage blocking'. Do you know--''
``The jagged edges and self-loathing.''
The skunk let out a melodramatic groan and slid off her stool to the floor, landing on her hands and knees before flopping onto her side, laughing. ``What a fucking brat.''
She shrugged. ``There is some of me in there, yes, but it is still theatre. It is about taking the particular and making it universal, if only for a little while, yes?''
Ey stared at her, nonplussed.
Ey nodded.
``Oh God, Ioan, you do not know pain until you work with choir kids.''
When ey didn't reply otherwise, she shrugged and continued, ``I would not say that I agree with that `I loathe myself, so imagine how much I love others' bit. I do not loathe myself, and yet I still love others. Have loved and will love in the future, even, and I see no change in my rare moments of self-loathing.''
Ey laughed and shook eir head, leaning forward to ruffle over her ears. It was a much more pleasant response to a note from True Name than ey'd expected. ``You're right, I don't. I'll just have to trust you on that. Skunks are so weird.''
Ey laughed. ``\,`Will love in the future'? You leaving me for some handsome guy you met in a bar, then?''
``A bar? Ugh. I am apparently more of a `hunt nerds in the library' type.'' She poked em in the belly. ``But I love \emph{you}, Ioan, and will continue to do so.''
Rubbing at the spot where she'd poked with her dull claw, ey nodded. ``Love you too, May.''
She beamed happily and settled back in against eir side, head resting on eir shoulder. ``I am glad, my dear. I know we agreed early on that this—us being together, I mean—does not need to be permanent, but that does not change the fact that I will continue loving you. Even if we should split, I will not stop.''
Ey nodded slowly.
``I have no plans for such,'' she added quickly. ``You are stuck with me for a good while yet.''
``What? Oh, no,'' ey said, shaking eir head to clear a few too many thoughts. ``I trust you on that. Just got me thinking. Do you still love all the others you've been with?''
She laughed. ``What I said does not apply just to you. Of course I still love them. Some long-diverged forks of me are even still in relationships with their partners.''
``So you've said. You still love them as the root instance, though?''
She nodded. ``I do not begin relationships as anything other than my root instance. I do not know why, but it does not feel fair of me to do anything but.''
``Oh, so none of your forks went on to fork for other relationships?''
``Not that I know of, no. It is a firm conviction, so I would imagine that they hold to it, but perhaps some older ones have diverged. We do not speak much.''
``How many are there, anyway?''
She lifted her head to dot her nose against eir cheek. ``Are you jealous, my dear?'' Her voice was calm and curious. Calm enough and curious enough, some distant part of em noted, that it kept em from falling immediately into defensiveness.
``I get the occasional pangs, more so early on,'' ey said after a long moment's thought. ``When ey was first getting settled in eir relationship, Codrin told me about something that Dear had told em shortly after ey'd been forked, `jealousy is a sign of needs not met'. Whenever I start feeling jealous, that's usually a sign for me to take a step back and think about what need that might be.''
``See, this is what I like about you, Ioan. You feel a thing and then think about it until you understand it. Sometimes a little too much, but it has served you well.''
Ey tilted eir cheek to rest it atop her head, a bit of closeness that also served the purpose of stopping her ear-tip from tickling eir neck.
``I feel a thing and am helpless before it. I cannot but wrap myself up in\ldots it\ldots{}'' she said, pulling out her notebook again to jot down the words as they came. ``Love, hatred, hunger, exhaustion. I am built for them all, and I cannot do a thing about them\ldots{}''
Ey shared a secret smile with emself as the skunk trailed off, continuing to write, tongue-tip peeking out from her muzzle.
``Also,'' she said once she'd finished. ``The answer is that I do not know how many of me are still in relationships. There are at least three, and I know of at least five that have quit, though I declined the merges out of privacy. I never made it a requirement that they keep in touch. Beyond that, I think there are\ldots mm, seven, perhaps?''
``So that makes me your sixteenth relationship?''
``Something like that, yes. Sixteenth truly serious one.'' She slid over and swung her legs up onto the stage so that she could rest her head in eir lap. ``Did my monologue really get you thinking about all this?''
``It's a good monologue,'' ey said, petting over her ears. ``Or start, at least. You said it should be five minutes, right?''
She nodded. ``Around that, yes. I am still working on it.''
``Mmhm. It's good so far, though. It got me thinking, but I'm also just fascinated by you, which helps.''
``Why, because I am weird? I think that is an Odist thing,'' she said, laughing.
``What, am I not allowed to be fascinated by my partner?''
``Absolutely not, no.''
Ey tugged on her ear. ``Fascinated and annoyed.''
``Yes, well, too bad. You remain stuck with me, Mx. Bălan.'' She continued more seriously, ``I did not expect this to be fascinating to you. I try to be careful talking about my other relationships.''
``I don't really mind,'' ey said after giving it due thought. ``That was past May, right? It'd be like getting upset over someone else having exes. If it were multiple partners at the same time, that'd probably be a separate conversation.''
She shook her head. ``I could not do that. I am not built the same as Dear. I am only in multiple relationships in the sense that there are multiple mes, but there is only ever one me involved with one other. It is parallel monogamy.''
``Why?''
``Because,'' she said, rolling onto her back so that she could smile up to em. ``I am also helpless before devotion, and that takes the whole of me.''
``What about Douglas or A Finger Pointing?''
``I hold no romantic feelings for A Finger Pointing.'' She laughed. ``She is nice, but in a boss-you-drink-with-on-Fridays-and-I-guess-occasionally-have-a-fling-with sort of way.''
``And Douglas?''
Her answer was a while in coming. ``Were our friendship to head in that direction, I would fork, but I do not foresee that being the case.''
``Really?'' Ey frowned. ``Wouldn't that be awkward? Us going over there to see him and the other you together?''
``Oh, incredibly awkward,'' she said, rolling her eyes. ``I have done similar in the past, and it would take a year or two to shake out. It is uncomfortable for me, as well, as I am left with the same desire even as my down-tree instance gets fulfillment and they are left with love for you.''
``I can imagine.''
``No, Ioan, I do not think you can,'' she said primly. ``You actually think about the way you feel as you are feeling it like a normal person rather than just crashing headlong into overwhelming emotions like a fucking Odist.''
``Well, fair.''
``I do not think we need to worry about that, though. I am comfortable with my friendship with him just as I am comfortable loving you, and should someone catch my eye--''
``You'd need to start going to more libraries, I think.''
She laughed and shook her head, continuing, ``--should someone catch my eye—or yours, for that matter—we will tackle it then with plenty of talking.''
``Oh, I believe you on that. Skunks never shut up.''
She made as if to bite em on the belly and, when ey flinched away, grinned up to em. ``Mx. Ioan Bălan, you are the one asking all the questions with long, involved answers. Do not pin this on me.''
``Yeah, yeah. You just got me thinking is all. I think you're giving me too much credit saying someone might catch my eye, though.''
``Why?''
Ey shrugged. ``I'm not exactly that observant.''
``You worked as a professional observer for, what, a century?''
``Not \emph{that} kind of observation.''
She laughed. ``Well, okay, yes. I will not discount the possibility, though. If we are in this life for yet more centuries, there is no harm in being deliberate. Plus, I will get an inordinate amount of satisfaction out of seeing you fall for someone. It was so wholesome the first time! I see no reason why it should not be the same subsequent times.''
``I guess. I don't know if there's anyone who--''
She waved a paw dismissively. ``If there is not, there is not. We can speak in hypotheticals like fucking grown-ups.''
``Fine, fine.''
When the silence drew out, May grabbed one of eir hands and started mouthing on eir fingers, sharp skunk teeth just pricking skin.
``Ow!'' Ey laughed and tapped a finger on her nose lightly. ``Pest.''
She licked at eir fingertip, saying, ``Thank you, my dear, in all earnestness. It makes me happy to be able to have a conversation about this.''
``Of course, May. I figure it ought to be an open topic for us.''
She nodded and stretched out on the stage. ``Agreed. We can come back to it later, though. I would like to run this through once more,'' she said, waggling the notebook at em. ``And then head home to get ready for dinner. Debarre is coming over and I plan on flirting with him outrageously in front of you all night long to see if I can make you jealous.''
Ey laughed and pushed at her until she sat up before sliding\pagebreak~off the stage and walking back to eir seat. ``Alright. Once more, from the top.''